Page 25 of The Rancher's Wedding

“And when we’re done with breakfast, well, we can go start work on the ranch.”

“Okay,” Estelle said.

Michael had some easy jobs to do for today. Still, he had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like them.

***

“What are we working on today?” Estelle asked.

“It’s not a particularly glamorous job,” Michael warned, “but it’s not particularly difficult, either. And it’s very important.”

They were walking toward the horse stables together.

“What is it?”

Michael pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Estelle. “You’re going to want to put this on. We’re cleaning up after the horses.”

“Bathing them?”

“No,” Michael said, “cleaning up after them. Not cleaning them up. We’re scooping up the manure and spreading it over the field for the crops.”

“Manure?” She said it slowly, as if it was a word she wasn’t familiar with.

“The horses’ waste,” Michael clarified.

“Oh.”

Michael put his handkerchief on over his face and tied it in the back. “Do you need help with yours?”

“I think I have it.” She copied what he did.

“Like everything else here,” Michael said, “you will get used to it, but I don’t expect you’ll enjoy it much the first time.”

“I don’t expect I will.”

They reached the stables and walked inside. Estelle looked in awe at all the horses, snorting and clacking their feet against the ground.

“Easy, guys,” Michael said. “She’s a friend.”

“They’re such beautiful animals.” Estelle reached out to one of the horses and Michael stopped her.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “They’re beautiful, but they can be aggressive if they don’t know you. You need to gain their trust, just like with the dogs, but the horses are a lot bigger and tougher to win over. I’ve seen someone move too soon behind a horse, thinking that they were fine, then get his jaw broken in by one quick kick. Believe you me, the walk into town to see Doctor Potts seems a whole lot longer when you’re trying to hold your jaw in place the entire time.”

Estelle shuddered. She seemed to get the picture.

Michael put his hand up to the nose of a big, black stallion, Orion, who licked it. “Orion here loves me,” he said, “but I suggest we don’t start with him because he’s the toughest one to befriend. And his previous owner said that he doesn’t much care for women.”

Michael walked down the line of horses to the end, the smallest in the bunch. “This here’s Buttercup,” he said. “She’s a sweetheart. Go ahead. You can give her your hand.”

Estelle reached her hand toward Buttercup with the smallest amount of hesitancy. Buttercup, shy as ever, eased her way toward the hand, perhaps unlike any hand she had seen before. Softer and more delicate, with skin that hadn’t been cracked and dried by years in the sun. She sniffed it and, taking her time, licked the tips of Estelle’s fingers before letting out a light neigh.

“Oh, I think she likes you,” Michael said.

Estelle laughed as Buttercup kept licking her fingers, nodding her head in the process, just like a giant puppy.

“I think she does,” Estelle agreed. She put her hands on Buttercup’s face and rubbed her thin layer of fur. “What a wonderful animal.”

Michael hated to break the moment, so he let it last as Estelle and Buttercup gazed into each other’s eyes.